


worlds apart (but still right here)

by SinginInTheRaine



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Post-Captain Marvel (2019), Saving the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 10:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/pseuds/SinginInTheRaine
Summary: Maria's friends always ask her about her love life, try to set her up on so many dates, can't figure out how she can be so happy alone, but she just smiles. Carol is her secret, and she doesn't need to share.





	worlds apart (but still right here)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SadieFlood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieFlood/gifts).



The two pagers sat where they always sat, nestled in the corner of the nightstand next to the queen size bed with the white comforter and the way too many pillows. Next to the pagers was one of the oldest pictures Maria had of Carol — the two of them standing together, dressed in their fighter uniforms, in front of one of the planes.

That was before — before Carol became something more than human, before Maria knew that aliens existed, before either of them knew that loving each other was more complicated than they could ever imagine.

Maria had more pictures of Carol than that — had more pictures of the two of them together — but the other ones were tucked away, hidden in drawers or the back of photo albums or in shoeboxes under the bed.

It was safer, Carol always said, for people to not know about them, and Maria understood. In a small way, it made her feel special that she was one of only three people (Monica being one of the other two) to really know who Carol was.

The two pagers on the nightstand looked almost identical, except in color. One was the blackest black it could be, the other a slightly lighter gray. The black one was for emergencies only, dire situations like aliens invading or life or death decisions. Nick Fury had one exactly like it. Maria always knew that the odds of her getting to the pager before Fury were incredibly slim, but still, Carol had wanted her to have it just in case.

The lighter colored pager was for more of a personal nature. It wasn’t to alert the person on the other end, but merely a way to say “I love you,” “I’m thinking about you,” “I miss you.” That one worked both ways; sometimes it flashed and Maria knew it was Carol sending her a signal back.

Maria tried not to overuse it too much; she didn’t need to tell Carol every day that she was thinking about her and loving her and missing her, and she didn’t need to hear the same back from Carol. It was just something they knew. But still, the days the pager did flash, Maria would feel her heart swell with warmth and affection and she would go to sleep those nights feeling safer and more content than normal.

The first time Maria used the black pager was almost fifteen years after Carol came back into her life. Monica had grown up into a beautiful young lady by then. Maria was so proud of her, and Carol was too.

Carol and Maria saw each other only a couple times a year, but it was enough. Usually one visit they would spend with Monica — beach vacations when she was still a child, and lounging around the living room or having Carol shoot beer cans with her laser eyes when Monica was no longer a child. The other visit would be just for the two of them, to get away and be together in a place where prying eyes wouldn’t know who either one of them were.

The other friends Maria had always asked her about her love life, tried to set her up on so many dates, couldn’t figure out how she could be so happy alone, but she would just smile. Carol was her secret, and she didn’t want to share.

But then came the first time she had to use the black pager. She and Monica were in New York, a trip just the two of them to spend some quality time together. But then the skies opened up and aliens poured down, and nothing was ever the same, because suddenly the whole world knew what Maria and Monica had known for years — they weren’t alone in this universe they lived in.

By the time Carol had arrived — could arrive — the crisis was over. A group of people, known from then on as the Avengers, had put a stop to it, but the city was a mess and people were terrified. Carol sat with Monica and Maria that night on the balcony of their hotel (luckily untouched by alien hands) looking out over the devastation. They could see small wafts of smoke still rising into the air, could hear the almost non-stop sound of sirens taking people to hospitals as the search for the wounded and the dead went on into the wee hours of the night.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Carol said softly. Her hand was in Maria’s, even though they sat a respectful distance apart.

“You’re here now,” Maria replied.

Monica stood up then, excusing herself, mentioning some friend in the city she needed to check on. Maria wasn’t sure she believed her daughter, but she appreciated the gesture. She and Carol waited until the door had closed behind Monica and her footsteps had faded away down the hall before Carol stole out of her chair and next to Maria on the lounge chair she had been lying on for the past hour.

There was barely enough room for the two of them, but feeling Carol wrapped around her made Maria forget about everything that had happened that day, made the fear of what would happen in the future more tolerable.

Maria rested her head against Carol’s. Sometimes, in moments like this, she forgot how strong Carol really was. Now, with her girlfriend in her arms, she seemed just like any other human.

“Do you have to go soon?” she murmured into Carol’s hair.

She felt Carol smile against her neck. “Not too soon.”

“Do you want to take me to bed?”

She felt the vibrations of Carol’s laugh. “There is nothing I’d like better.”

They barely made it inside before their clothes were off, their arms wrapped around each other, their lips locked. They tumbled on to the bed together, laughing and kissing and smiling. Outside, the world cleaned up destruction that had never been seen before, but inside their little room, everything was okay. And everything would be okay.

And on the night stand next to the bed, two little gray pagers flashed their symbols at each other.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
